Whiskey Lullaby
by toledo girl
Summary: Cuddy stood there in the dark room. Looking around, there was very little, yet very revealing evidence of what had happened. On the table was an empty bottle of whiskey, and the couch, an empty pill bottle.


**Based off the song Whiskey Lullaby by Brad Paisley and Allison Karuson. This is meant to be a small little one shot, but if a lot of people want me to continue with it I might. **

Cuddy stood there in the dark room. Looking around, there was very little, yet very revealing evidence of what had happened. On the table was an empty bottle of whiskey, and the couch, an empty pill bottle. His coat and helmet were gone, along with a few of his belongings. Gregory House was no where to be found.

Last week, Wilson and she had to go off to a medical conference, and House had a case so he had decided to stay behind. For some reasons that now seemed stupid and ridiculous, they had decided to trust him on his own. Now a week later, all they had left was the evidence of what had happened.

Alone in the apartment, Cuddy decided to go and look around a bit before Wilson had decided to give up looking for the night. As she walked through it was surprising to her how clean the place had been kept. The only things really out of place were the empty bottles. Taking a turn into the bedroom was when she had started to realize how bad off it was. The clothes were carelessly tossed around, the bed sheets and pillows wadded up off to the side, various drawers pulled out and lay on the floor. He was looking for something. At her feet lay a crumbled up piece of paper. Driven out of pure curiosity, she knelt down and carefully lifted the small paper and studied it a second before straightening it out.

_I can't go on seeing you and Lucas everyday anymore. I quit. Don't try to look for me, I don't want to be found. _

It was because of her. It was her fault. She lost him. Never had she felt as lonely as she did at that very moment. At home she had Lucas to go to, but even that had been fading away for a while. Lucas had just been a distraction, something to shield her from the parts of reality that she refused to see. When House had been admitted to the mental hospital, her own world had come crashing down on her. The hospital was empty to her, even if there were many people surrounding her. She had missed him more than she would ever let on. The man that she had loved was falling apart and she wanted to see no part of it, so she used Lucas to take her mind off of it.

Tears started to fall and hit the paper. Frustrated, she crumbled the paper in her hand and threw it across the room. "Damn it House," she said to herself. "Ass," she said as she turned and walked out of the room.

Cuddy desperately tried to wipe the tears from her face as she walked through towards the kitchen. It was a decision she had rarely ever agreed to, but this was different. Looking around the kitchen, her eyes briefly widened as she spotted the half full bottle of whiskey just sitting on the counter. Not caring anymore, she grabbed the bottle and settled herself at the table. After taking a quick drink, she leaned her head back over the backing of the chair and stared up at the ceiling and then slowly brought her head back up. It took a minute, but the tears eventually came back, and she buried her face in her arms on the table.

House sat in a hotel room. The room was dim, and the air cold. Nothing mattered to him at the moment though, he was alone, like he knew he would end up.

He was not drunk yet as he sipped a random bottle of booze that he was able to sneak with him, but he wasn't quite sober either. That to did not matter to him. All that mattered was achieving the complete numbness that he desired. That was the only he could get himself to sleep at night anymore.

Every thought in his head revolved around one thing, Lisa Cuddy. She was the one that he had wanted for so long. He wanted her bad enough that he had convinced himself that he had slept with her after she had helped him through his most challenging night. It was the perfect story, but he did not seem to catch onto the fact that it had been too perfect.

Now, it was all too late. She had Lucas. Those times in college meant nothing to her, the couple nights she had miscarried and he was there for her meant nothing to her, the night the adoption had fallen through and he was there, nothing, nothing at all. They were all a one way act.

"Best of luck to you and Lucas," he said as he held up the last few drinks and then chugged them down. "I hope he's everything you ever wanted," he mumbled with a hint of self hatred. "What ever she's doing, she'll be better off now," he said as the alcohol finally began to hit him.


End file.
